Splitting Seconds
by CharS
Summary: A Flash-Fic! Harm emotionally deals with the aftermath of Paraguay


Splitting Seconds  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Just a short flash-fic, inspired by the Keith Urban song "You'll Think of Me".  
  
Spoilers: This takes place right after "A Tangled Webb part II" and could probably have taken place at the very beginning of "Shifting Sands". It is told from Harm's POV.  
  
The characters of JAG are the property of DPB and Paramount. I'm just borrowing them.  
  
* * * *  
  
Unlocking the door to my apartment, I trudge in with a sigh. My shoulders are weary from bearing the burden of the baggage I bring with me. Every ounce of me aches, including my heart. The emotional journey is now over and I feel spent. My only goal now is to sleep, and to forget.  
  
I drop the bags by the door, not caring if they stay there forever. The blinking light on my machine catches my eye, luring me to the counter where it has resided for the past 8 years. I stare at it, mesmerized by its hypnotic red glow.   
  
I wish I had psychic powers that could tell me whose voice I'll hear when I press play. My index finger wavers over the button, dare I listen? If it is her, will it only be more of a reminder of the loss that consumes me? And if it isn't her, will it crush me? Dare I take that chance again? In a split second, I press delete. The electronic voice screams, "your message has been deleted", another sad reminder of all things lost. I walk away, needing to put it all behind me.  
  
Home-everything is exactly like I had left it two weeks ago. It's as if I am walking into the past. But the past doesn't exist anymore. My life as I had known it is now altered beyond my recognition.   
  
Going into the bedroom, the ruins of my life remain strewn on the bed. My uniform is in the exact place as when I had stripped it from my body. In a split second, I went from officer to civilian. And even quicker, she was gone from my life.  
  
She. I can't even think her name right now. When I hear it in my head, it's not my voice saying it, but someone else's. The someone else who stripped her from my life, taking what was left of me with her. I always thought we'd be together. I always imagined us together. All I see now is darkness. All I feel is the emptiness that exists without her.  
  
Picking up the white shirt from the bed, I stare at my medals and ribbons. Touching them burns my skin. I can't help but laugh. It's sad, isn't it? I find all this so incredibly ironic now. Mic resigned his commission for her and got her undying gratitude, if that's what you call it. I resigned my commission to save her life and got little less than a nod of her head before she ran off to thank the one person who put her life in danger to begin with.  
  
So now what? I know I should be thinking of what comes next. But, where do I begin to pick up the pieces? Do I beg for my job back? And what if it's not mine to have anymore? How do I start over? I toss the shirt on the floor, not really caring much to look at it anymore. Looking at it reminds me of all I lost. Looking at it reminds me of her . . . of us.   
  
I shove the rest of the stuff off the bed and lie down. The feel of the mattress beneath my body and the pillow under my head offers me quiet release from the events plaguing my mind. Yet, I'm afraid if I close my eyes she'll be there.  
  
~~~  
  
It's now 0400. The glow of the full moon fills the apartment. My body gave me what I craved and I feel somewhat rested from the dreamless sleep I had fallen into. But, in a split second, I am consumed, yet again, with thoughts of her.   
  
For some reason I wonder if she is thinking of me . . . wondering what I'm doing . . . wondering if I'm thinking of her. Does she realize what she has done to me? Does she realize what she does to me?  
  
I want so much to scream her name. I want to beckon her to me so I can tell her everything that's on my mind . . . everything I feel. I want to tell her I ache for her. But rational thoughts put a halt to my wonderings.   
  
Take your memories from me, Mac. Take our past. Take our friendship. Take your reasons for pushing me away. Oh, yeah, and take my love with you when you go.  
  
At least we never had a chance-you never gave us a chance. You stripped it from me in that split second you went to Webb. At least I won't have the memory of us haunting me. But I know it will. I will always wonder what it would be like to love you with all abandon.   
  
Someday you'll think of me. Someday you'll wish I could hold you tight. And hopefully, in that split second, I'll be over you.  
  
A gentle knocking on the door jars me from my thoughts. My heart leaps as its sound echoes through me.  
  
I slide from the bed, my rumpled clothes from yesterday still clinging to me as I answer the door. The glow of the hallway light surrounds her, giving her the aura of an angel and rendering me speechless. I feel like I had beckoned her. I can't help but wonder if she is just a dream I conjured up.  
  
But the softness of her voice reminds me she is no dream and is as real as my love for her.   
  
"Hi . . . I was thinking about you. I forgot to give you something."  
  
"What is it, Mac?"  
  
"Me."  
  
And in a split second, she is in my arms where she belongs.  
  
~fin~ 


End file.
